My Dear Sister
by Laura Andrews
Summary: Letters exchanged between Susan and Lucy not long before and up until the train crash. Bookverse.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I think C. S. Lewis (God rest his soul) died in the '60s, so I think we can safely say that I am not him, nor do I have the rights to anything pertaining to Narnia. **

Dear Susan,

Do you realize it's been 8 years to the day since we were called into Narnia the second time? I can hardly believe it! I can remember dear old Cair Paravel, lying in ruins, and the chess piece you found. Oh, the memories are so hard to bear at times! Yet I should feel fortunate, for I was able to go again, and sail with dear Caspian to the end of the world. I wish you could have been there... but then, wishing is not worthwhile. But, oh, the sea of lilies! And the great wave forever rushing upwards! I do wish that I could once more bury my hands in Aslan's golden mane.

On the anniversaries of our going or leaving Narnia, I always feel a bit melancholy, and must speak of it to someone. Edmund and I have been talking about it quite a bit of late, and Peter and I write quite often, but I feel that sometimes you are the one I must speak to. I remember that when you came home that time, from America, and Edmund and I had been to Narnia again, you had parties and dances to go to, and were not able to hear the tale. Well, it is too long to write in a letter, but you _will _come, sometimes, won't you? And then Edmund and I can tell you all about. I do miss you, Susan, more than I can say, and wish that you were home more often. But, I know you are busy, and have things to do. Do drop me a line if you can; just seeing your familiar hand helps me when I'm lonely for you.

Well, I've spoken enough about myself. What have you been doing? Father and mother said that you had met a lot of handsome, rich boys, but that you've scorned them all. It reminds me of Narnia; there you hardly even considered marrying anyone, except that horrid Rabadash, but he hardly counts. If I can, perhaps I will visit you. I am finishing my final exams up, and then school will be over at last. I half wish this wasn't my final year; I remember you being so excited when school was all done for you, and you could put away your books. But I'm not so eager. I fear I shall forget very soon much of what I have learned. You mentioned in your last letter that you had gotten a new dress for a dance. What was it like? I do wish that the clothes here in England were like our Narnian clothes: so comfortable they were, and they shimmered and twirled so!

Well, I must get back to studying. I love you dearly, Su, and hope I can see you very soon!

Love,

Lucy

**A/N**

**So, did you like it? Are there any suggestions? Should I continue?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Well, here it is, Susan's letter to Lucy! A big thankyou to OldFashionedGirl95, who beta read for me and wasn't afraid to use the red pen of doom. This letter is so much better than it would have been without her!**

**Disclaimer (because otherwise I might be sued): I am not C. S. Lewis. I am not a relative of his. I don't hold any rights to anything of his at all, but I do love his work, so I'm jut filling in a few gaps. Please don't bring a lawsuit against me.**

Dear Lucy,

It was wonderful to hear from you again. It seems such a long time between your letters. I am having a lovely time, and hardly wish to come home, but shall be back in two weeks time.

Now that you mention it, I do remember the game we used to play, about Narnia and the wardrobe. It was a lovely way to pass a rainy afternoon. Do you remember how it all started at Professor Kirke's house, when there was nothing to do but explore; and how we all went into the wardrobe room and made up stories and tried to keep out of the way of the Professor's housekeeper?

The drawing you sent me of the castle is very good; it reminds me of the castles you used to draw when we were at the Professor's house. I have hung it on my wall.

My new dress is quite beautiful: dark blue silk with white lace at the throat and sleeves, and I have a diamond brooch to go with it. I do wish you would come and visit; perhaps for the last day or so, and then we could go home together. The boys would be wild about you, and I could lend you that dress you loved so much; I only got to wear it once, and it is practically new.

I do not know if you would like golf; but the golf course is beautiful, and it is quite an invigorating sport, though I'm not very good at it. The spa is what made Woodhall famous, but I prefer the parties and dances. I know I have always been fonder of these things than you, but I am sure you would enjoy them.

Peter has said he will be coming to visit, now that his exams are finished.I am looking forward to seeing him, but I can't help being anxious because I know he will be so protective of me, and though he means no harm, sometimes I just can't bear it. I think that I shall have to tell him when he comes that I am perfectly capable of caring for myself here.

I do hope Father's cough is better; it was quite bad when I left. Tell him to take good care of himself. And give my love to Edmund and Mother; Ed hasn't responded to my last letter, and I know Mother is too busy to write often. Oh! The clock is chiming seven. I must finish my hair. Goodbye, Lu!In loving haste,Susan

**A/N the Second: Apparently, Woodhall Spa is and was a popular English village. I've taken a few liberties, as I'm not 100 % sure it was all that popular so soon after the war (having been requisitioned by the RAF and one of its hotels being damaged by a parachute mine), but I'm using it as the place Susan is spending about two months in.**


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Susan,

Edmund had said you seemed cold to Narnia, but I did not know that you had abandoned it all as a game. Oh, Susan! How could you forget the glades and forests, and the fauns dancing in the moonlight? Can you not recall the breeze in our hair as we stood on the deck of the Splendour Hyaline? Or the song the Merpeople sang at our coronation? Dear, dear, dearest Susan, I will never believe that you have forgotten Aslan!

How could we have imagined it, when the Professor and Aunt Polly already knew of Narnia long before we went there? Or how could Eustace, who mocked the very idea of fairy tales, suddenly believe himself to have been in one?

You seem to think that I am afraid of growing up, and of leaving behind my childhood. But I am not! I have grown up once before, in Narnia, and I needn't forget Narnia to become a woman. Oh, Susan, Susan, I do not know what has happened to you. We used to speak so fondly together of all our times together in that dear land, and you always could remember what happened better than I. Susan, for the love of Aslan, do not persist in telling yourself a lie. I fear for you if you do! Surely you remember what the Professor told us of his Uncle Andrew? Do not become so caught up in parties and fun that you forget all that did us such good!

Your letter caused me great sadness, Susan, and I was distressed and unable to reply for a very long time. Peter came home three days after your letter arrived, and it was only after talking to him that I was able to reply.

Father says he does not wish for me to go to Woodhall now, as you will be home shortly. Regardless, I do not believe I could enjoy it now at all.

I can think of nothing more to say, but that old Narnian blessing:  
>May thy feet be guided safely, guided o'er the rough and smooth; may Aslan be 'twixt thee and evil, and may he bring thee home again.<p>

My thoughts are ever upon thee, Susan; and though thou shouldst forget Narnia and Aslan, yet wilt thou ever be, unto me, Queen Susan the Gentle, Lady of the Horn. And I will ever pray the Great Lion to guide thy steps safely home at last.

With much love and many tears,

Your sister


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers! Your comments make my day. Only one more letter to go!**

**I also want to thank my beta reader, OldFashionedGirl95, for again beta reading. She has made these letters so much better, especially in their 1940s British feel, and also for her words of encouragement and advice. I now know what authors mean in their acknowledgments sections, when they thank their editors for making the book better than it would have been.**

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to C. S. Lewis. Not me. End Disclaimer.**

Dearest Susan,

I have not heard from you for some time; this surprised me, for Edmund is the one who does not answer his letters, and you have always been prompt about it. But, no matter, I thought you might like to know what we have been doing. I was dreadfully sorry to hear from Mother that you would not be coming home after all, but I hope that you continue to have a wonderful time at Woodhall.  
>Mother showed us your letter, and the photograph with Jane and Marianne Bright, and George Rydon. He is indeed handsome, and though Edmund was concerned about your getting too chummy with him, I am sure you are well capable of taking care of yourself.<p>

Father's cough is better, but he seems to have given it to Mother; it is nothing serious, however, and she has painted another lovely picture which she hopes will do well in the sales.

Six days ago, we met with the Professor and Aunt Polly (by we, I mean of course Edmund, Peter, Eustace, Jill and I) and we talked far into the night about Narnia. I do wish you might have been there, Su, because right in the middle of dinner, the oddest thing happened! A man appeared to us, like in a vision, and he was bound to something, but it was too shadowy to see what. And he was so pale and weary and sorrowful looking that it made my heart break. He opened his mouth and tried so very hard to speak, but could not, though Peter commanded him to. After that, he simply melted away. We are certain that he is Narnian, both from his clothes and his face.

The professor had thought that something was up in Narnia, which was partly why he asked us to come to his house, and now we are certain that we are wanted there, but of course, only Eustace and Jill can go back. Now Peter and Edmund have gone to London, to the Professor's old house, to dig up the rings from so long ago. It is very exciting, and I know we would each have paid a great deal of money to be able to go along, but of course that is not possible.

Peter wired just an hour ago that he and Edmund have got the rings and will be waiting for us with them. Eustace and Jill are staying here, and you should see the strange looks that we get from Father and Mother, what with all the laughter and secretive glances we give each other. I am so glad for them! Though of course I wish that I could go along. But it will take only a moment for us, and we shall soon be hearing of all their adventures and, oh, it will be just like old times. I have so longed for news of our dear land.

We have been wondering all this time of what may be wrong in Narnia, and last night I had the queerest dream. In it, there were dark figures walking about a fire, and behind the fire was a small building. I knew at once that it was Narnia, but there was something dreadful in the air. I fear for our dear country, Susan. I have been praying to Aslan ever since our dinner at the Professor's, and despite my cheerfulness, there is an undercurrent in my heart that tells me that this will be a visit to Narnia like no other, just as that hunt so long ago for the White Stag was no ordinary hunt. Something is going to happen, though I do not know what it is or will be, and if this should happen to be the last letter you ever receive from me, then know that I love you with all my heart and will never stop hoping and praying that you remember Narnia. May the Lion be with you, Susan.

Eustace tells me we must leave very soon for the train station and that I'll have to post this on the way. There is suddenly a weight on my heart, but I know that Aslan is always with me, and I am not dreadfully afraid.

My deepest love and affection to you,

Your sister,

Lucy


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: And so, dear readers, we come to the last of these Letters. I have greatly enjoyed writing it, as well as working with my beta reader, OldFashionedGirl95. She has given so many wonderful suggestions, and quite a bit of the wording in here is hers. Thank you all for reading and commenting :D**

**Also, to Lady Firewing: I am working on a fic (from Jill's POV) that will kinda-sorta tie in to these. Hopefully it will be up soon! It's not quite what you suggested, but it shouldn't disappoint.**

**Disclaimer: If all you lawsuit-hungry people haven't given up on me yet, then please refer to the previous disclaimers I've made.**

September 8, 1952

Dear, dear, dearest Lucy,

My sweet sister, the deepest regret of my life-both here and in Narnia and for as long as I live-will always be that my last words to you were full of pettiness and unbelief. How easily I brushed off Narnia and Aslan, as though they were cobwebs in what I imagined was the grand palace of my mind! Oh, Lucy, that I could have once more embraced you, and then fallen on my knees and begged your forgiveness! And not only yours, but the forgiveness of Peter and Edmund and Eustace and Jill and Aunt Polly and the Professor. My regrets are too many to name. And that I would not even come home, would not face you and speak openly of my thoughts, and so lost the chance to spend those last few, precious days with you all. Three years may have passed, Lucy dearest, but my heart is bleeding still!

Lucy, as I read over your letters to me, I notice one thing absent, and that is anger. Disappointment, sorrow, gentle chiding, they are all there. And who, besides Aslan himself, had more right to be angry with me than you? And yet, if you were, never once did you show the least of it towards your wayward, nay, prodigal sister. Ah, Lucy, you were more fit than I to be called the Gentle! For the gentleness with which I prided myself was mere outward appearance; but I was not kind or compassionate in my conduct.  
>Truly, I should have been called Susan the Proud, Susan the False-Hearted, Susan the Forgetful!<p>

Oh, Lucy, Lucy, how I miss you! How I long to receive another letter from you, even one of chiding and reproach, that I might respond with all the love and tenderness and remembrance of Narnia that you could ever wish for!  
>When, oh, when did I turn from the true way, from Aslan and from you and from joy and light and beauty? The years seem dark behind me, my path hard and cold and bitter of my own accord, for I tried so to blot Narnia from my memory that now it is difficult to recall our time there.<br>How unworthy I am to be called your sister! How different I am from my own sister and brothers! In my heart, I always looked down upon Edmund for his treachery; for, oh, how different I was! Upstanding, intelligent, too good-hearted to ever betray my own family for sweets. And you I looked down upon for your ever-truthful ways, for who could claim to never lie without being proud and self-righteous? And Peter I often despised because it was he who held our family together, when I should have been standing beside him and supporting him.  
>Oh, different, different! Indeed, I was different, but not in the way I thought! Edmund's treachery was once, and born of ignorance, and how he changed, to become the most faithful man I have ever known. What more could I have asked in a brother? You, Lucy, never were proud or looked down upon anyone in all your days. And Peter. Dear, dear Peter, his greatest fault was that he thought of our safety and our well-being before anything else in the world and loved us every day of our lives. And I thought ill of you all for so long, not realizing that I, the greatest traitor of all, the proudest and most black-hearted, was the one who truly broke faith and fellowship with my kings and my queen. If only I could go back, and mend my ways, how differently I would live!<p>

Oh, Lu, my little sister, you may think from the preceding words that I have given in to despair. You may think it morbid to put this my letter upon your gravestone, and to stand beside it and weep for a sister whose spirit has long departed from an earthly body which has already turned to dust. But I have written all this to unburden myself of the terrible guilt, guilt which has haunted me for the last three years. For though I have truly repented, and thrown myself upon the mercy of Aslan, I felt that not all would be right unless I wrote to you this letter confessing my guilt. Ah, how often I have wished to call you from beyond the world's end, from Aslan's Country, to say these last words to you!  
>Lucy, best of sisters, your tears, your prayers, your entreaties on my behalf, were not in vain. I have found the Lion here, just as he promised so many years ago when he, as I told myself, so cruelly exiled us from Narnia.<br>"Susan, dearest daughter," were his last words to me. "And Peter, my dear son, you have grown too old for Narnia. All that I wished you to learn here has been learnt."  
>And I stood there before him, with the tears running down my face, and felt myself forsaken, cast out, and alone. And Peter said,<br>"Oh, Aslan, will we never see you again? Have we known and loved you for all these years, only to be cast from your presence?"  
>"Oh, children," he replied. "-Oh, children, do not think that this world can contain me. For I am in all worlds, in all times, ready to receive those who seek me. You will know me when you have found me."<br>And he breathed on us both.  
>That recollection, at least, is clear in my mind, though I have thrown away so many of my other memories. And I did find Him, though it took the loss of all those whom I held most dear to bring me to Him.<br>And now, with my confession laid upon these pages in ink, my heart is lighter. I will serve Him until I draw my last breath, and, when my eyes close the final time, and my soul takes leave of earth, then, I promise, we will meet again in the country where Aslan is pleased to dwell.

Your loving, most affectionate sister,  
>Queen Susan the Penitent<p>

_And if Lucy, watching her sister from across the River which divides this world from the next, could hear the broken words of apology which Susan whispered (and I believe she could), then we may be certain that an answering whisper-of forgiveness, of love, of blessing-wafted across the waves to soothe Susan's sorrowing heart._


End file.
